Conspiracy
by Wait For Fall
Summary: A different take on the events that occurred after Unwound Future. LaytonxOC. The first chapter is Bill Hawks take, and the second is from the OC's perspective on what actually happened.
1. One side

After the future fiasco, Clive Dove had been put on trial. _For the safety of the public,_ Was his publicized reasoning. _To protect myself,_ Was his own personal opinion. The public, of course, was outraged at the young man; they questioned why anyone in their right mind would try to level London.

Then _he_ stepped in.

Layton, a professor of archeology and puzzle extraordinaire, decided to bring his arguments and evidence to the case. He spoke about his involvement with Clive Dove and brought another case to the light: the lab explosion of ten years ago, a cold case. Layton -with the support of his ward, apprentice, and now Fiancé- discussed how he had been affected by the case. He also said that when he was conducting his own personal investigation, it was abruptly ended by a hired thug from an unknown employer. That employer being none other than himself, Bill Hawks.

He knew where Layton was going with his argument, and he wasn't going to stand for it. In fact, he decided he'd take the fight straight to Layton, and he was going to take what Layton loved most: his fiancé.

The woman was Elizabeth Rey, soon to be Elizabeth Rey-Layton. They'd met before during their escape from the mechanical colossus, but not formally. She seemed a simple enough target. She was tall, definitely taller than himself, but thin as a rail with seemingly no muscle mass. Her long brown hair, usually messily strewn around, framed an often impassive face. She was 24, and had spent the past three months in a coma from a bus accident. Her right arm was a complicated metal prosthetic that seemed a bit too advanced for the day and age we lived in, but then again, so did that mechanical colossus.

The plan was simple as well: On one of their hunts around London for more information, she'd simply disappear. At least that was the plan. What happened... however... was nothing short of a total failure.

Not only was the plan a failure, but everything was falling apart. The girl had not even a bruise to show that there had been any conflict. The only damage his goons had done was to her prosthetic and where they had injected the woman.

His goons had also gotten caught and told the police who their employer was. When news broke out the next morning, the public was furious at him, demanding an explanation for the ordered assault of an innocent woman. He could feel that his time at power was coming to an end... and was irate.

_How could this have happened? _He thought. _Everything had been so perfect! What had he done to deserve this?_

Hershel Layton was more than charmed to bring the truth to the light for the public.


	2. Another side

**This my aforementioned OC Elizabeth. I know that another author did a story like the first chapter, but I wanted to throw in my own personal chaos.**

**Anyway. Here it is. Please review.**

**I don't own Professor Layton, as much as I wish I did...**

* * *

><p>Grey was a color she was used to. She used it to describe herself, and had many clothes in different shades of the color. But the sky being as grey as it was today was just… depressing. Ahead of her walked two people she knew quite well: Luke Triton and Flora Reinhold. There was, also, -standing right beside her, mind you- the most brilliant man she'd ever met and her fiancé, Hershel Layton. Luke and Flora were chatting it up about different things like puzzles, kids at their respective schools, and how nice it was that Luke was back in London. Luke had insisted to his parents that he was old enough to come back overseas and stay with us for awhile. It was nice to see him back, and, on that same thought, it was nice to be back. She'd been in a coma for three months, and somehow that had fixed everything. Hershel had been pulled out of his depression from losing Claire again by almost losing his current love. He proposed to her the night she was released from the hospital.<p>

But enough of that. That is a different story.

As we strolled down the streets toward the Scotland Yard (Hershel needed to look at the investigation files again), I began to lag behind the group. Even Hershel, who had been standing at my side, didn't notice that I had slowed down to watch my new family from afar. But before I had long to admire the sight, a set of arms grabbed me from behind: One arm over my mouth and one around my waist. They pulled me back into the darkness of a back alley before I had the chance to make even a sound.

Then a sharp pain wracked my leg as a needle pieced my calf through my jeans. When the needle had gone, I realized what they had injected me with: a numbing agent. I couldn't feel my leg. It finally hit me when they threw me to the ground and began tying me up that I needed to defend myself or things would go from bad to worse. I'd seen a lot of goons before, but god, these baddies were ugly. And stupid as well. They had started tying me up from my legs (which were already useless anyway) and had neglected the fact that my arms were free. There were three of them. With my left arm I bashed two of their heads together, KO-ing them both, while with my right arm I hit the last one squarely in the head with my cold, metal fist. The metal hit his head with a sharp crack that originated **not** from his head. He was out cold, but the crack had originated from somewhere within the mechanism that was my right arm. After the hit, it fell to my side, limp and lifeless. _At least they're out._

I sat there for a minute or two, trying to catch my breath and guess about what had just happened. After I had collected myself, I pulled out my cell phone with my left hand to call Hershel.

"Hey, Hershel, I have some-"

"Elizabeth? My dear, where did you go? You disappeared without a word."

"And that's exactly why I'm calling you. I'm okay and somewhat safe, but I'm not in a good place to move around."

"Why? Are you hurt, my dear?" His tone was now worried.

"No, no, not really. No, I'm fine, I just can't move. I need you to retrace your steps a bit and listen for me. I'll be calling your name. Oh, and call the police too. This kind of includes them." I chuckled at my almost oversight of the police.

"What happened, Elizabeth?" The worry could be heard plainly in his voice. I sighed, checked to make sure the men were still unconscious, and then finally answered.

"It'll be easier to explain when you get here." I confirmed that he had understood my requests and hung up. I sat for about 20 minutes, calling for Hershel and watching the section of street I could see to make sure he hadn't walked past.

After a short amount of time, a tall shadow filled the small area of light that was filtering in from the street. In sharp contrast to the grey sky, a familiar silhouetted figure of a man in a top hat stopped at the alley entrance.

"HERSHEL! Here!" My voice rung out on the dingy walls and as soon as he heard the call, the man came running.

"Thank goodness, you're alright." He sighed in relief as he neared me. He kneeled down on my left and placed a quick kiss on my lips. I smiled as he returned his attention to the situation. Behind him, finally catching up with the professor's long stride were Luke, Flora, Inspector Chelmey, Barton and a few other police officers.

The first to speak was Inspector Chelmey. "May I ask, what the bloody hell occurred here!" Practically everyone shot him dirty looks for his… _graceful_ word choice, but said nothing. Hershel began working on the knots that bound my legs. Chelmey motioned for him to stop and for me to explain.

"To put it frankly, Inspector, I was assaulted by these three men." I waved my hand to the men lying on cold, filthy cement. Flora gasped and Hershel and Luke's faces turned cold at the sight but the inspector's face remained unchanged.

"And how did you manage to beat three hulking men in your current state?" It seemed more like a question from his curiosity than one that might actually apply to the crime here.

"I had a brief military career, Inspector. I know how to defend myself."

"But you can't untie yourself?" I scowled at the man and my eyes narrowed. _Saw that coming._

"My prosthetic is damaged and they numbed my right leg. And it's not like they tied the ropes so I _could_ escape. I'd need two hands to untie myself." He closed his eyes as I spoke and was silent after I had finished. He grunted.

"...Alright, well, We'll need to hear the full story, but let's get these three in handcuffs and this woman untied." And at this Hershel began again on untying the knots with shaking hands. I settled with the fact that I was kind-of useless now. I watched Hershel as he fumbled with the tight knots, his eyebrows knitted and eyes flickering between his work, my face, and the men on the floor. After about 5 minutes of tugging at the intricate knots, the ropes were finally off and Hershel ran to my other side to help me to my feet… or so I thought.

His arms slid under my back and knees and lifted me into a bridal carry. Totally losing my handle on my emotions, the blood rose to my face to turn it bright tomato red. Hershel's expression suddenly turned worried at my redness.

"Is something wrong, my dear?'

"N-no, I just wasn't... That wasn't what I was expecting..." I stuttered sheepishly in response. Luke and Flora were stifling giggles at my uneasiness. I shot them dirty looks that only made the pair laugh harder. I scowled.

We all made our way to the Scotland Yard, a general chatter erupting after leaving the crime scene with the necessary evidence and the three men. I leaned my head on Hershel's shoulder and closed my eyes, feeling very tired from the fight.

"I was quite worried, you know." He whispered.

"Mm. I could see it on your face when you ran up to me."

"I have to admit though, when you first disappeared, I was utterly terrified. I was afraid I'd... That I'd lost you again..." The despair in his soft voice was clear as day (Just not this one. As I mentioned, it was very grey today.) I nuzzled into his neck in an effort to comfort him.

"I thank you for your worry, dear, but you must know one thing." I lifted my head and opened my eyes to look at my fiancé. His face turned to mine. It looked hurt remembering the past three months. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He smiled and placed a small kiss on my lips. "Thank you, my dear."

Our walk continued in a comfortable silence until we reached Scotland Yard. Once we had arrived, Hershel placed me in a chair with his utmost care and hadn't realized until he moved his right hand (which had found a home under my knee during our walk) was covered in a slick layer of blood.

"That's my blood, isn't it?" I spoke before anyone had a chance to say a word. I hadn't felt the bleeding from where they pierced my leg because they had, of course, numbed it. I watched in utter uselessness as they called a nurse over to treat my wound. Hershel rolled up my pant leg and we finally got to see how badly it was hurt. They hadn't exactly been gentle with the needle, and it showed. Blood was beginning to dry on the swollen, inflamed area and sitting there looking at it; it was hard to believe that it was actually my leg.

Anyway, after the nurse treated my leg, Chelmey took my statement and the four of us left. Hershel was now acting as a support for my right side, and, as before, Luke and Flora were chatting once again.

"Hershel."

"Yes?"

"I think I know who's behind this."

"I think I know as well."


End file.
